Chance Encounter
by ewells4
Summary: This story is a companion to the Emily-Aaron scene from 1x20 (sadly, the ONLY one). It focuses on the characters' POVs before, during and after they see each other at the restaurant.
1. Chapter 1

**There's a shocking lack of FF on here for this show, so I decided to produce something. This piece is a companion to the Emily-Aaron scene we got in 1x20, and I wrote it as two chapters (one chapter for each of their POVs before, during and after the scene).**

 **I really want to go "all in" with this couple, but the show isn't** **making it easy** **. One scene every couple of episodes is not even remotely enough to build momentum. I get it, though. I really do. The showrunners have other priorities, but I really need a healthy side of romance alongside my main course. Here's hoping for something fantastic in 1x21 . . . .**

 **Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 _Aaron was sitting across the restaurant from her._ That one tiny, seemingly insignificant fact inflated like a balloon in Emily's mind, effectively stifling any other thoughts that she might try to piece together. On queue, her heart did that fluttery little thing it always did when Aaron was nearby, and her adrenaline began pumping so fast that she could have knocked out a 5K in twenty minutes. For Emily, this was nothing new. Having worked with Aaron for months, she'd been through this drill often enough that she knew what to expect. And she knew exactly what to do about it. She simply dug deep and put a chokehold on her emotions. The directive that she issued to herself was firm and clear: _Pull it together, Rhodes._

That particular instruction, which had always served Emily well in the past, might have worked its magic once again had she not reached the somewhat unwelcome realization that Aaron wasn't alone. More specifically, he was sitting with _a woman_. Emily forced herself to remain cool, but really, this was incredible. Simply. Incredible. Turning back to face the junior staffers at her table, she recalled once reading an article in a food journal claiming that the D.C. metro area played host to thousands of restaurants. And yet Aaron had chosen to bring a date to this one. Not only was it Emily's favorite place to go after work, but it was hardly an ideal place to bring a date. There was too much noise and commotion to allow for the possibility of any good conversation, and the wine list was just plain sad.

Emily knew she could probably slip out without Aaron seeing her. If she moved fast enough she was sure she could manage it. But no. Just no. Slinking out of a restaurant simply wasn't Emily's style. At least, she hoped it wasn't.

Within seconds, her decision had been made. "I'll be right back," she muttered to Dave and Sidney.

Rising from the table, Emily collected her wits and her pride, and like a wave rolling rapidly toward the shore, she bore down on Aaron and his tablemate from across the restaurant. She'd hardly seen him for weeks, and she simply wanted to say hello. That was all. If he was on a date, so be it. She and Aaron had shared one kiss, and they'd almost gone on one date. When one looked at the larger picture, it amounted to virtually nothing. Aaron was merely an ex-co-worker on a date, and if that gave rise to any mild discomfort, she felt more than capable of managing it with ease. She was Emily Rhodes, and she did not shy away from a challenge. It was that dogged sense of purpose that had driven her to become Valedictorian of her high school class. During law school, it had scored her a coveted Senate internship that ultimately led to her career in Washington. And now, she was Chief of Staff to the President of the United States. By comparison, greeting a colleague and his dinner companion was less than nothing.

Behind her, Emily knew Dave and Sidney would be giving each other those annoying, speculative glances that everyone thought she couldn't see. For months, the West Wing had been salivating over the "will they or won't they" drama between Emily and Aaron. Since Aaron's departure from the White House, the momentum had died down considerably, but she still noticed the looks and whispers that passed between her colleagues on the rare occasions when Aaron was in the West Wing.

As she crossed the restaurant, Emily shoved aside all concern for the whispers and not-so-subtle innuendos. She had more important matters to consider. Namely, who was the woman at the table with Aaron? Was she a new flame? An old love interest? How long had they been involved? He hadn't mentioned that he was seeing anyone. Then again, why would he have mentioned it? Emily had no claim to him. After that one kiss, they'd never even gotten off the ground. He was absolutely free to date anyone he wanted. _Absolutely_.

On her approach, she was thankful that Aaron hadn't noticed her yet. It meant she had the upper hand—something that was all too important in Washington. "Hey, you," she said with enough control to convince herself that she didn't sound nearly as flustered as she felt.

The instant Aaron saw her he was on his feet. And did he look excited to see her? Was he nervous? Emily could hardly tell, but she really wanted to believe that he was both of those things. She wanted to think that when they were together, his insides were every bit as gelatinous as hers were, because truly, she felt like a big, gooey mess each time Aaron Shore looked at her.

His hug was a surprise—especially considering the presence of another woman at the table. It felt nice to be in his arms, though, and even if they were in public and the contact was brief, the gesture still seemed strangely intimate. In that moment, everything else fell away, and it was just her with him. The other woman didn't matter. The other patrons didn't matter. The inevitable whispers of her co-workers certainly didn't matter. Had they been alone, she might not have released him so easily. She might have encouraged him to kiss her again. No, that was inaccurate. She absolutely would have encouraged him to kiss her again.

And then he said the words that completely flipped her perspective upside down—in the most perfect way. "Emily Rhodes, meet my cousin, Nadia Espinosa."

Emily felt feverish with relief. It wasn't a date. The woman was his cousin. Emily was embarrassed to acknowledge how good it felt to know that this woman had no romantic claim on Aaron. He was still just Aaron Shore—her single, former co-worker and the guy she'd once kissed. The guy she desperately wanted to kiss again . . . .

Thrusting her hand toward Nadia, she tried to recall what Aaron had told her about his cousin. "Hi. You work for Congresswoman Yoshida. Right?"

"That's right."

"How's that going?" Emily asked, noting that Nadia had the definite aura of a newbie in Washington. She was eager to please, pleased to be recognized and recognized the importance of making the right connections. Nadia was the person Emily had been just five years before, and that understanding made Emily want to offer whatever encouragement she could.

As sincere as she was in her desire to bolster Nadia's confidence, Emily also had a deeper, more pressing motivation for showing that she was aware of who Nadia was. She wanted Aaron to know that she'd been listening to the off-handed comments he'd made about his cousin weeks before. She hoped he'd realize that she considered it important enough to remember, and by extension, that he was important to her.

When Nadia excused herself from the table, Emily silently thanked her for giving them a few minutes alone.

"So POTUS is heading up to Toronto," Aaron noted, sounding as easy and polished as always. As she often did in such situations, Emily tried to detect anything about his behavior that might indicate he still had feelings for her.

"Yes," she responded. "The White House is all mine."

He laughed. "No, seriously. It's his first NATO summit. First time out of the country. Polls are high. I mean, he's on a roll. So are you." Well, that was nice of him, Emily thought. As she'd often done during the weeks since he left the White House, she wondered how it was possible that this man did not absolutely despise her after her role in investigating him.

"I do have to admit, it feels good," she said. "What about you? Are you going to follow Hookstraten?"

"No. She did offer it, but I don't see myself working for the Secretary of Education."

"It's not exactly the fast lane."

"Let's just say after working in the West Wing everything feels like a step down."

"Well, just so you know," she began, making a mental note to discuss Aaron's new availability as soon as she had an opening with Kirkman. "I was not opposed to Hookstraten for VP. I think it would have been great to be working together again." That truth had certainly been screaming at her in past weeks. In fact, it had become abundantly clear to Emily that her support for Hookstraten's appointment had far more to do with getting Aaron back into the West Wing than with the merits of the VP candidate herself.

"Yeah, it would've been," he admitted, and Emily could tell from the way he looked at her that he meant it. She could see that maybe— _hopefully_ —his feelings for her hadn't been washed away entirely. "Hey, it's Washington. Anything can happen. Right?"

"And it usually does."

"Yeah." Aaron sounded almost wistful, and Emily urged herself to tone down the smiles. In his presence, she was so often reduced to a beaming, breathless puddle of emotion. Beneath all the casual work banter and subtle jabs at his personality, she really was a mess.

Emily wanted to say more, but she didn't know what. Besides, she knew it was time to go. Nadia would be coming back from the bar, and Dave and Sidney were probably anxious to leave. And so she excused herself, feeling the disappointment that always came when she was forced to leave him. For Emily, Aaron Shore was a missed opportunity, and it made her sad to think of what they might have had.

* * *

Emily would have considered herself daft if she'd failed to notice the silence that swept across the table upon her return. As she slid back into her chair, Dave asked, "So, how is Mr. Shore?"

"He's great," she responded. During her absence, their server had come and gone, leaving them no reason to linger in the restaurant. "Aaron always lands on his feet."

"Yeah, he looks like he's doing well," Sidney observed, looking over at Aaron's table. "He certainly seemed, uh, happy to see you."

"Who's the woman with him?" Dave asked.

"Just his cousin," Emily said. "She works for Congresswoman Yoshida."

Sidney glanced at Emily and then back at Aaron's table. "So they're not on a date, then."

"Nope. Not a date," Emily confirmed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the pair of them.

"That's good," Dave said, smiling across the table at Sidney. "I mean, it's good to know that she's _just_ a cousin."

Emily groaned. "Okay. Bring it on," she said, inviting the inquest that would necessarily follow. Generally, she made it a practice not to discuss her personal life with the staff. This was an opportunity, though. She was being given the chance to face the rumors head on—to deflect and redirect them elsewhere.

"What do you mean, Ms. Rhodes?" Sidney asked, stifling a grin.

"I mean that if you're going to tease me about Aaron—and we all know you want to—then you should just go ahead and get it out of the way." Firm. Precise. Marginally aggressive. Emily congratulated herself on taking the offensive approach at a time when her heart was still sifting through the after effects of her unexpected encounter with Aaron. "We're just work colleagues. That's all."

" _Former_ work colleages," Dave reminded her.

"Former work colleagues who _hug_ each other," Sidney amended. "And you know, I can't say that I've ever exchanged a hug like that with a former work colleague. Have you, Dave?"

"Interesting question, Sidney. I can't say that I have."

"Well, maybe that says more about the two of you than about me," Emily suggested, already regretting her invitation to "bring it on." "You both know what it's like to work long hours together in a tense environment. In that atmosphere, it's inevitable that you develop a bond with your co-workers. You even miss them when they're gone."

"So what's he going to do now that Hookstraten's been appointed Secretary of Education?" Sidney asked.

"He's looking for another position," Emily told them. "It's the right thing to do. A guy with Aaron's talents would be wasted in a position on Hookstraten's staff."

"Maybe Kirkman will ask him to come back to the White House," Dave said. "Then the two of you could go back to working all those long hours together."

"In a very _tense_ environment," Sidney added, raising an eyebrow as if it should mean something.

Emily pushed her chair away from the table, signaling an end to the conversation. "To be honest, Kirkman would be lucky to get him back. Aaron's tenacious, and he knows how to make things happen. If Kirkman could persuade him to come back, he'd be an asset to the entire administration."

"And how about you, Ms. Rhodes?" Dave asked. "How would you feel about having him back at the White House?"

"The _entire country_ would be fortunate to have him back," she insisted. Looking at her watch, she added, "Are you ready to go? I don't know about the two of you, but my alarm clock goes off at four a.m. If we don't get out of here, we'll be useless tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Aaron Shore had always been a firm believer in the power of opportunity. Opportunity opened doors. Fortunately for him, he'd also learned that opportunity didn't always happen organically and that sometimes it required a nudge in the right direction. Often, if the nudging didn't work, a good, swift kick might even be necessary.

So it was with a sly nudge—possibly bordering on the tiniest of kicks—that Aaron had selected a restaurant when Nadia asked where he'd like to meet for dinner. It was Emily's favorite after-work hangout, and truthfully, he was hoping he might see her there. For that reason, when Emily's sudden "hey you" came at him and she appeared at his table, he was hardly surprised. It was merely the sound of opportunity knocking. And it wasn't at all unwelcome.

At some point, Aaron had given up any attempt at denying to himself how much he wanted Emily Rhodes. They'd come really close to making things happen between them, but then it had all blown apart. That didn't mean that his feelings had gone away, though. If anything, they were stronger than before. The longing looks . . . the separation . . . his memory of their kiss . . . . It was all still there, percolating within Aaron like a pile of glowing embers waiting to be fanned.

Now, as he stood up and smiled at Emily, he acknowledged that this woman had completely unseated him—literally and figuratively. When she was around, he felt like a seven-year-old boy experiencing his first crush. And that was just ridiculous. Aaron Shore did not have crushes. Absolutely not. He didn't have the time or energy for them, and in no way did they factor into his long-term plan.

"Hey. Hey, how are you? It's good to see you," he said, tamping down the nervous energy that bubbled up every time she was nearby. He didn't dare look at Nadia because he knew he'd be able to read the truth from her expression. He was kind of a wreck.

The hug—and cheek kiss—had happened before Aaron even had a chance to overthink it. He blamed his rashness on their recent separation, along with the fact that he was just really craving some physical contact with Emily. Aaron thought he carried it off smoothly enough, and for that, he was grateful. He'd hate for anyone to realize how much he enjoyed holding her, even if it was only for a few seconds. She just fit so well in his arms. For the first time in weeks, Aaron felt as if he could breathe deeply, and he let it go on a long, refreshing release.

"Emily Rhodes, meet my cousin, Nadia Espinosa," he said, not unhappy about the chance to introduce Emily to someone who was important to him on a personal level.

And it was right then, during the introduction to his cousin, that Aaron thought he detected a flicker of relief on Emily's face. Had she thought Nadia was his date? This was Emily, so of course, he could never be sure. She had always been a "hard read," and for a guy who made a career out of navigating the political landscape, that was saying a lot. Emily usually maintained a firm grip on her composure, often making it difficult for Aaron to convince himself that she thought of him as more than a colleague and friend. And even if she had felt something more for him at one time, he was now left to consider whether those feelings were still there. At the very least, if her present behavior betrayed anything, it was that she didn't despise him as much as she had when she'd first come to the White House. Back then, she never would have come over to talk to him at a restaurant.

"It's a pleasure," Nadia was saying, and Aaron could see that his cousin was feeling "star struck" by the prospect of meeting Kirkman's Chief of Staff. He knew the feeling, although it was for entirely different reasons that he was experiencing it.

"Hi. You work for Congresswoman Yoshida. Right?" Emily asked, and Aaron was startled by her ability to recall their conversation weeks before. Ultimately, he found that he liked knowing she remembered what he'd told her about Nadia. It meant that what he'd said was important to her, and quite possibly, that he was important to her, as well.

"Wow, are you sure you two are related?" Emily asked Nadia, which of course, brought him back into the conversation and reminded him how much he missed sparring with Emily on a regular basis.

"Yeah," Aaron acknowledged. "I wonder all the time."

The exchange elicited some uncomfortable, possibly puzzled laughter from Nadia, which told Aaron that she wasn't quite sure what to make of his relationship with Emily. Being Nadia, he was sure that she was already trying to work it out in her mind. Thankfully, as proof that she lacked neither perception nor understanding, she excused herself to go up to the bar, giving Aaron the opportunity to talk to Emily alone. At that point, he concluded that if Nadia hadn't already earned the distinction of being his favorite cousin, he would have swiftly knocked off any other contenders and handed over the title to her immediately.

"So, POTUS is heading up to Toronto," he began, feeling restless and giddy all at once. Aaron felt indebted to the D.C. career that had trained him to function at a high level amidst distractions, because to say that Emily was a distraction was an understatement. _An extreme understatement._

"Yes," she affirmed. "The White House is all mine." Man, she was cute. Aaron had to fight the urge to sweep her up and carry her out of the restaurant. He desperately needed some extended alone time with Emily Rhodes.

"No, seriously," he responded instead. "It's his first NATO summit. First time out of the country. Polls are high. I mean, he's on a roll. So are you." That was something he truly meant. In the months since Kirkman had been appointed President, Emily had risen fast in Aaron's estimation, and he didn't mind letting her knowing that.

"I do have to admit, it feels good. What about you? Are you going to follow Hookstraten?"

"No. She did offer it, but I don't see myself working for the Secretary of Education."

"It's not exactly the fast lane," Emily agreed.

"Let's just say after working in the West Wing everything feels like a step down." In truth, Aaron didn't know what he was going to do next. He'd considered leaving D.C. altogether, but there was a powerful attraction to living in the same city as a certain saucy brunette with a zest for politics and a keen interest in sarcasm.

"Well, just so you know," she said, "I was not opposed to having Hookstraten for VP. I think it would've been great to be working together again."

"Yeah, it would've been," he agreed, feeling relieved to know that she missed working with him, too. "Hey, it's Washington. Anything can happen."

"And it usually does."

"Yeah." Aaron wanted to say more—anything else that might keep her from leaving. He wanted to go back to where they were before the investigation began. They'd been so close to crossing the line. And now they were just . . . nowhere. Aaron didn't even know what to do with that.

When she excused herself and walked back to her table, he tried to remain upbeat. Mainly, though, he was already calculating when he'd be able to see her again.

* * *

"So that's Emily Rhodes," Nadia observed, slipping back into her seat at their table almost as soon as Emily left. " _The_ Emily Rhodes."

"What does that mean?" Aaron laughed. " _The_ Emily Rhodes?"

"Well, she's President Kirkman's Chief of Staff. It's kind of a big deal."

" _I_ was Kirkman's Chief of Staff," Aaron reminded her, swishing the liquid around in his glass as he watched Emily's retreat. Her table had been cleared, which meant she'd be leaving soon. "I don't recall you being that impressed when I was in the White House."

Nadia waved away the thought. "I know too much about you to be impressed by a job. At any rate," she added, eyeing Emily's table, "She wasn't nearly as scary as I expected."

"Who said she was scary?"

Nadia shrugged. "No one in particular. You just hear things around D.C. . . . Some people say she can be kind of intense."

"Well, I certainly hope so," he scoffed. "That's what it takes to have a successful career in politics. Emily knows what she wants, and she knows how to get things done in D.C. It's something to be admired about her."

For several seconds, Nadia watched him, and then slowly, she smiled. And, to Aaron's mounting irritation, she looked almost smug. "So you admire her, then."

"Did I say that?"

"It was strongly implied."

"Well, it was more of a general statement. I meant that she should be admired for her intensity and dedication to the job."

"I see," Nadia conceded. "So how long have you two been dating?"

"We're not dating."

Nadia folded her arms on the table in front of her and waited, looking incredibly bored. She wasn't buying anything he was saying. As far as Aaron was concerned, his cousin could be a real pest sometimes. "Okay, then," she finally said. "How long have you _wanted_ to date her?"

Dropping his hands to his lap, Aaron leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Emily and I are just friends. We're colleagues."

"That doesn't come close to answering my question. Try again."

"All right. All right," he finally said, knowing that she wasn't going to give up. "There was something between us, but . . . . Well, with Emily, it's complicated. For a lot of reasons."

"I don't see what's so complicated about any of it. You're crushing on her, and she clearly has feelings for you, too."

Aaron swallowed. Running a hand across his face, he tried not to feel like a kid with a playground crush. It was making him crazy. Under Nadia's unrelenting assault, Aaron was hardly able to suppress the desire to talk about Emily. In fact, having found another person with whom he could discuss his feelings, he reached the sudden and very astonishing conclusion that he felt compelled to gush about Emily. He might even—please, God, no—giggle. Instead, he cleared his throat and called up the poker face he'd perfected during the decade he'd spent in D.C. "You think she feels it, too?"

"Aaron, you know she does. Have you asked her out?"

"Why are you so persistent?"

"It's a family failing. Have you asked her out?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe? What does 'maybe' mean?"

"It means that I asked, and then, like I told you before, it got complicated."

"Meaning that she said, 'no?'"

"Not exactly. Look, Nadia. Romance in D.C. is never easy. It's—"

"Complicated. Yeah. I get it."

Aaron looked over at Emily's table. She was getting ready to leave. Picking up her bag, she headed toward the door with the junior staffers following along behind her like obedient baby ducklings. Before she slipped out the door, though, she looked back once and caught his eye. She was thinking about him. He knew she was. She smiled at him, and in response, Aaron waved.

"Ugh. You've got it bad," Nadia said, scowling dramatically. "Just ask her out—again or for the first time. Whatever. For your own sanity—and probably for hers, as well—just make it happen, Aaron."

"Maybe," he said, again swishing the drink in his glass. "We'll see." After all, this was Washington. Anything could happen.


End file.
